


Restless

by SydneyFlaire



Series: Bayani Universe [30]
Category: Goyo: Ang Batang Heneral (2018)
Genre: Afterlife, F/M, Lost Memories, Meeting Again, Modern, Modern AU, Past life, Regaining Memories, Reincarnation, Remembrance, ghost - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-30
Updated: 2019-01-30
Packaged: 2019-10-11 03:50:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17439389
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SydneyFlaire/pseuds/SydneyFlaire
Summary: They said that his soul was finally at peace; the very reason that the only thing that everyone who've hiked Tirad Pass as tourists had felt was the futility of the action. But, what if, his soul remained wandering? Just waiting for the right person to help him moved on and finally rest in peace?





	Restless

**Author's Note:**

> The seventeenth and last one-shot as part of the #GoyoAngstStories.  
> You can also see my works on wattpad and fanfiction as "SydneyFlaire".  
> Follow me on twitter @JerseyLeigh for more updates.

The entirety of this trip was actually her friend’s idea. Her best friend told her that if she wanted to be away from the city life and the stress of being the heiress to their family business for a few days, then she better come with her on her small hometown in Ilocos Sur, just on the other side of the tourist destination of Mountain Province. And she was somehow glad that she came with her for the tranquility and peace; but for her last trip today, she didn’t expect that she’ll wake up early to take a walk outside. After all, the past two days had been stressful with all the treking and added history.

It was indeed different. The province life somehow hit her quite hard. Dagupan was already a bustling city in comparison to this. But her childhood mirrored a province as peaceful as this, before she finished College and was brought to the reality of their family business’s hub at Manila. Or perhaps, she’d been walking around a bit than intended in a place that she was unfamiliar, making her realize that there was an aching _peacefulness_ in the air. After all, she’d succeeded in asking her father not to assign bodyguards for her. If she did, she’ll not enjoy these things at all.

She took a moment to take in her surroundings, and sure enough, she was already hiking up the mountain once again. The same spot she did a few days ago. A beautiful but lonely one. The air it carried from the upslope has a cold sensual tranquility, as if holding a history far darker than the tall weeds sprouting from the ground.

No one was around. The lack of people made the silence even more apparent against where she stood now. And everything was peaceful and a little bit wistful.

She sighed heavily, just on time for a flash of white to catch her gaze. She blinked once and turned to look on at the trail up ahead her once again. What really got her attention, however, was the man standing right ahead of her. He was wearing a khaki uniform that almost blended too well with the weeds, but it was his rumpled dark hair that really made him stand out and the gold medals he has.

 _Weird,_ she thought. _Nandito ba siya all this time?_

She was still staring at him when he turned. His eyes widened the moment that their eyes met one another, and it took everything in her not to look away from him. She froze in place at the intensity of his stare. After all, it was the first time she’d seen someone’s eyes to bright as gold as that of his.

“Ikaw,” he said, his voice deep and commanding. “Nakaikita mo ako?”

“Uhm, oo?”

His mere presence was intimading but there was a gentleness on how few his words were. He looked relieved as he spoked again, “Ah, m-mabuti. Sa wakas...”

Or perhaps, something made her stay than to run away screaming when she finally noticed the blood on his cheek and neck. It was a horrible wound that in a red hue, she could actually swore that she could see his teeth and the inside of his mouth. But instead of screaming, she reached out to him in an attempt to hold him. “T-Teka... na paano ka? ‘Di lang ‘yan basta-bastang—”

But when she did, she could only blanch. Her hand went right through his arm as if he were an apparition. She saw her fingers stick out of his sleeve, and she pulled her hand back as quickly as she could. Only now that she scrambled to get away from the man—or whatever the hell he was.

“T-Teka lang! ‘Wag kang tumakbo, ‘di pa ako tapos!” the man— _thing_ —yelled at her.

She was already running back to where she came from, down the startup of the trek, but in a flash of almost inhuman speed, he was standing in front of her again, arms outstretched. She was shaking in fear, wondering how he had done that.

Realizing that what made her truly ran was the horrible mess of his wound, he turned away that only the good part of his face would be visible to her. He looked sad and desperate when he mumbled, “‘Wag kang tumakbo palayo sa akin. Nagmamakaawa ako. ‘Wag kang matakot. Hindi naman kita sasaktan.”

Any sane person would bolt it right about now. But, she couldn’t. She wasn’t sure if it was due to her fear, or it was something else, that made her remain on her spot. Perhaps, because it was her first time to have an encounter with this... _kind_.

The man finally relaxed and sighed heavily, keeping the half view of his face away from her. “Sa tingin ko ay kailangan kong magpaliwanag sa iyo, binibini.”

“Tungkol saan?”

“Lahat ng ito.” He pointed at the broken side of his face. “At maging tungkol dito.”

She flinched back when he tried to reach for her, only to have his hand went through her shoulder. She frowned, asking, “A-Ano... ano ka ba?”

“Patay na ako.”

“Excuse me?”

He raised an eyebrow at her, unsure of her words but he repeated himself. “Patay na ako. Buhay ako dati, pero... mukhang nakatali pa rin ako rito. Pagala-gala. Walang maalala kung sino ako, o paano ako napapunta rito.”

She rubbed her eyes, wishing that all of this was just a dream. But the ghost remained right in front of her. She resigned to this one, sighing. “Wala ka talagang maalala?”

“Wala. Ang alam ko lang ay matagal na akong patay.” He pressed a hand onto his wound, though as gently as if he couldn’t accept that it was present, and added, “Dahil dito. Walang duda na dahil dito.”

“Hindi ko alam kung anong gagawin ko para makatulong sa iyo...”

“Ikaw ang unang tao—ang _nag-iisang_ tao—na nakagawang makita ako. Ginawa ko na ang lahat ng paraan para mapansin ako ng mga taong napaparito pero walang nangyari. Walang nakakakita sa akin. Walang nakakarinig. Maliban sa iyo.”

 _Lord naman_ , she wondered. _Bakit ako pa?_

“Gaano katagal... ka nang ganito?” she asked instead.

He closed his eyes for a moment. “Matagal-tagal na rin. Ang hirap alalahanin ng mga panahon. Siguro ay mga higit isang daang taon na rin.”

She was still trying to come to terms with the fact that she was either speaking with an actual ghost, or she really was slowly going insane from overwork. But he didn’t look like he was lying at all. If anything, he looked genuinely desolate. Something in that expression made her heart stir with pity... and longing?

“Sa palagay ko ay di ako matahimik dahil sa mga bagay na nakalimutan ko.” He raked a hand through his hair with one hand, all the while keeping his other onto the horrible mess of his cheek. “Kaya kailangan ko ang tulong mo para maalala ko kung ano man iyon.”

She bit her lower lip. She almost laughed at the proposition that she was to help a wandering spirit of a hundred years for something as silly as that. But then, she couldn’t say no at all. Something inside her wouldn’t let her to. “Look, kahit gusto ko man na tulungan ka, di ko alam kung anong magagawa ko para makatulong,” she said. “I’m sorry, pero sa tingin ko, di kita matutulungan.”

Immediately, the man’s face fell at her rejection, and she suddenly feel guilty of her words.

“...Totoo. Wala nga akong maibibigay na kabayaran, pero...” He lifted his face to look at her again. He looked to be at the end of his wits, begging. “Ikaw lang ang maaring makatulong sa akin ngayon. Kahit ikaw lang— _pakiusap_... ‘wag kang umalis.”

 _Sana na nga lang ay hindi ko pagsisihan ito sa huli_ , she thought as she finally nodded at him. “...Kahit papaano, naalala mo ba kung ano ang pangalan mo?”

He shook his head. “Hindi. Wala talaga akong maalala. Ang alam ko ay iba na ako ngayon kumpara noon.”

“Hmm... kailangan nating bigyan ka ng isang pangalan. Hindi naman kita pwedeng patuloy na tawagin na ‘uy’.”

His eyes perked up, hopeful in a flash. He moved closer to her, and she didn’t flinch back this time. “Talaga bang tutulungan mo ako?”

She gave him a rueful smile. “Hindi naman kita magagawang palayasin, ‘di ba?” Maybe she’s really insane right now, but she couldn’t think of him as ‘otherworldly’ when he looked so ‘human’. _Lost, tired, and painfully human._

“...Goyo,” he said, breaking her reverie.

“Sorry?”

“Pwede mo akong tawagin sa pangalan na iyon habang wala pa akong maalala. Nakita ko na naka-ukit ang pangalan na iyon dito. Hiramin ko na lang pangsamantala.”

She thought it was funny that he had the audacity to borrow another person’s name, but, for some reasons, she knew that the name suited him more than it did anyone else. She tested his chosen name, making the name tumble every now and then inside her head.

_Goyo._

* * *

The car ride back home was a little awkward. Her best friend was leaning against the window; meanwhile, the ghost— _Goyo_ , she reminded herself—remained seated on the passenger seat, unsure of how to act in a moving and close vehicle as this. She was still getting used to the fact that only she could see him, so seeing his form phase in and out was still pretty bizarre.

However, the strangest thing of all was his idea of tagging along with her all the way back home.

“Kailangan kong manatili sa tabi mo kung talagang gusto nating makakita ng progreso,” he told her.

“B-Bakit? ‘Di ba pwede na magkita tayo once a week or something?”

“Hindi maari. Kung talagang babalik sa akin lahat ng alaala ko, kailangan kong manatili sa tabi mo. Sasayangin ko lang ang oras ko ng walang ginagawa rito at hintayin kang bumalik.”

“Totoo iyon, pero... alam mo na may buhay rin ako. May trabaho. ‘Di ko maaring ibale-wala lang iyon para dito.” Actually, she could. Her father was still the one who managed the company, but she hated the idea that she was simply the heiress to such a prestige company name.

“Kung ganoon ay magkaroon tayo ng kompromiso. Sasama ako sa iyo hanggang bumalik ang mga alaala ko.”

“Ano?”

“Iyon lang ang natatanging paraan para mapadali ito.”

She knew that it was pretty demanding, but the guy had a point. She just wished that his conditions will not force her to sacrifice her daily living, at least. She sighed heavily, conceding, “Sige. Fine! Pero may dalawa akong kondisyon.”

“Ano iyon?” His look was challenging, almost smug even. He looked thrilled, somehow.

“Una, ‘wag mo ako kausapin kapag nasa publiko tayong lugar. Magmumukha akong baliw kapag nakita nila na kinakausap ko ang sarili ko.”

“Naiintindihan ko. Yung pangalawa?”

“Kailangan ko rin ng... privacy.”

He frowned. “Ano?”

“Uhm... tipong oras para sa sarili ko? Kaya ‘wag ka bigla-biglang magpapakita sa akin ng walang anunsyo. Lalo na kapag ako ay nasa kwarto ko.”

It took a few seconds before he realized what she actually meant and he nodded. “Naiintindihan ko.”

After dropping off her reasonably exhausted best friend back at her place, she trudged back on her own. Goyo still floating beside her. It was stil somewhat jarring to picture a floating man next to her, but she supposed weird things happened to everyone at point. And _this_ was hers.

“Kakaiba na ang inyong mga sinasakyan ngayon,” he spoke, breaking the silence. “Akala ko’y mga tren lang ang mayroon.”

“Madami nang nagbago sa nakalipas na higit isang daang taon, you know? Kung dati ba’y puro kalesa at kabayo, well... mayroon pa rin naman pero ‘di na iyon yung main mode of transportation.” It was almost like speaking to an old man—a dead, strangely attactive, and young-looking man.

They finally reached her apartment at the penthouse of a known residential building, and before she could even unlock the door with her key, Goyo phased through her front door like he owned the place.

“Hoy! Hindi ka pwedeng basta-basta lang pumasok sa bahay ng may bahay!” she yelled at him, but Goyo didn’t seem to care.

“Bahay ito? Isang malaking kwarto lamang naman ito.” Goyo hovered around, noting the placement of the appliances and picture frames lining the table. He was pretty inquisitive for a ghost.

“Ordinaryo na ganito lang ang laki ng isang apartment or condo.” This is actually not; perhaps for her who’ve grown from riches. “Siguro tumira ka sa isang mansyon para magkaroon ng ganyang kaisipan,” she explained to him, not saying that she understands what he meant. This place of hers right now in the city may be the most expensive and the best there is, but this is still nothing compared to her family’s home back in Dagupan.

She then spent the next few minutes trying to get all her things in order, trying not to be bothered by her ghostly companion asking an onslaught of questions about her TV, laptop, toaster, and others. “Goyo, maghunustili ka muna. Look, alam ko na sinabi ko na tutulungan kitang maibalik ang memorya mo, pero di ba pwedeng magpahinga muna ngayon? ‘Di ba ito makakapaghintay bukas?”

He didn’t look pleased but he conceded anyway. “Wala naman akong magagawa kung bukas tayo magsisimula. ‘Wag mong kalimutan ang pangako mo.”

She made her way to her room and drew an invisible line to stop him from following her inside. “Naalala mo? Oras ko?”

He smiled with confidence. If it weren’t for that ugly mess of his cheek, she would say that he was absolutely handsome. “Natatakot ka ba na may makita ako na di ko magugustuhan?”

She rolled her eyes before closing the door and plopping down on the bed.

The whole day was probably just a dream—an odd dream that felt achingly familiar even in its utter strangeness.

* * *

She woke up the next day, groggy and mildly disoriented from the night before. Half of her was expecting the ghost outside her door to just be a product of her overworked mind and obssession with TV dramas. But when she opened her door, she was met with the sight of Goyo lounging on her living room floor, stretching around like a cat who owned the place. Not a dream, indeed.

“Tanghali na,” he said. “Ang tagal ko naghintay para magising ka.”

“Masisisi mo ba ako? Ang makakita ng multo ay hindi parte ng daily schedule ko.” She sighed. “Anyway, alam ko na sinabi ko na tutulong ako pero wala talaga akong alam kung paano ako makakatulong.”

Goyo scratched his head, learning the habit of keeping only his good profile for her to see while keeping the other way from her view. “Pinipilit ko rin alalahanin, pero wala talaga akong maalala. Iniisip ko na ang prisensya mo ay makakatulong.”

She pulled up a notepad and a pen, and began to write down all she knew about Goyo. All the way from being more than a hundred-year-old spirit, to a death by an exploded cheek. Not a very good start, but it was something than nothing.

“Ano ‘yang sinusulat mo?” He flaoted over to peek at her notes.

“Kung ano ang nalalaman natin as of now,” she answered. “May naalala ka ba tungkol kagabi?”

“Hmm... sa totoo lang, nagmasid-masid ako sa labas kanina noong tulog ka pa. Masyadong... _kakaiba_ ang lugar.”

“Gaano kakaiba?”

Goyo began to detail how he’d never seen such gigantic structures side-by-side. According to him, everything was fast, metal, gigantic and loud—not to mention the sheer amount of people walking around the area.

“May nakita ka ba na pamilyar? Isang lugar o bagay?”

“Wala. Sa tingin ko, yung lugar kung saan ako nagmula ay ibang-iba dito. Konting tao at madaming palayan. May ilog na dumadaloy malapit sa bundok patungong laot. Mga kabayo.” He closed his eyes to think. “Mga espada at mga baril at mga kanyon.”

She jotted down more notes. _Walang ideya sa modern tech. 100 years or more ago. Revolutionary era?_ She bit her lower lip for a second. _Horses, fields, swords, guns and cannons. Haciendero? Ilustrado? Sundalo?_

“Goyo, naalala mo ba kung paano gumamit ng baril?” she inquired.

“Anong ibig mong sabihin?”

“Sabi mo, may mga espada, baril at kanyon noong panahon mo? Maybe, gumamit ka ng isa sa mga iyon dati? Parang ganito ba?” She tried to replicate what she’d seen from the old revolutionary movies. She tried to handle an imaginary rifle and pointed it at an invisible target. Her attempt must be clumsy, if Goyo’s unamused expression was an indication.

“Mali ang pamamaraan mo,” Goyo criticized, his brows furrowing. “Dapat ay sinisigurado mong makakayanan mo yung pag-putok ng bala sa hawak mong baril. Parang ganito.” He stood up and gave her a demonstration. He drew his imaginary rifle and masterfully executed how like some sniper does. The way he did it looked so natural, graceful even, like he’d been doing it his whole life. Maybe it wasn’t a bit of a stretch to assume that he was a soldier.

“Tignan mo nga naman.” She smiled at him. “Naalala mo ang isa sa mga pinakamahahalagang parte.”

His eyes widened in realization. “Tangina, oo nga!”

Since then, he repeated his actions as he imagined then that there was an enemy right ahead to shoot at. She then wondered if he was skilled enough to be a marksman, he’ll certainly be part of the ranks, for he certainly looked the part. Bloodstained ghost he was, she could still see that he was absolutely toned and good looking.

“Libreng-libre lang naman talaga tumitig sa akin,” he teased, smirking at her.

She had to clear her throat to hide her blush. Looking away, she said, “Uhm... anyway, sa tingin ko ay may progress tayong na-achieved today. May trabaho pa rin ako bukas, so titignan ko kung anong magagawa ko pagkatapos.”

* * *

Her best friend noticed that she wasn’t getting enough rest. True, for she had stayed up all night googling the entire history of the Philippine revolution to see if it might help Goyo somewhat. He was insistent that she showed him every single picture she could find—hence the sheer number of tabs she had opened last night. Fortunately, for them, he was able to remember some things, albeit little by little. She didn’t reveal too much, even if she was accused of having a boyfriend among all things; and the first thing she remembered was the ghost’s face. But the ghost in her apartment would be her secret and no one else’s.

Goyo had taken a strange obsession with the television—the evening news and action dramas, to be specific—so tonight was one of the nights she flipped through the channels for him.

“...Ayon sa mga pulis, kahit tanghaling tapat ay nagawa pa ring gawin ang krimen,” the newscaster announced, blurred photos of the victim flashing on the screen. “Maaring isang hitman ang may kagagawan, pero sinasabi ng pamilya na wala naman silang alam na—.”

“Lagi na lang may kasamang ganyan ang mga balita,” she spatted. “Bakit mahilig kang manuod ng ganito, Goyo? Lahat ng bagay sa evening news ay nakaka-depressed or nakaka-disappoint lamang.”

She expected a snarky reply from him, but was met with nothing. When she turned to face him, his eyes were glued to the screen, completely focused on the blurred picture of the deceased.

“Goyo?”

He was still catatonic. Her words practically bounced off his ears as he kept watching the news.

“Hoy, ayos ka lang—”

“Mag-tatanghaling tapat din iyon,” he spoke, as if in a trance.

“May naalala ka?” Her tone grew frantic. The news must have triggered another memory, though this time, she knew that it wasn’t a pleasant one.

“Tahimik na parang walang umaasang mangyayari iyon. At pagod na pagod na ako. Tapos umalingawngaw ang putok ng baril. At... at iyon na,” he said.

Noon, and a gunfire. If she was right, then Goyo must have died with those parameters. It would explain that the bullet hit his cheek, causing that disfigurement. She imagined all the gruesome thoughts his death entailed. How cruelt it must’ve been, to perish that way.

His eyes were glazing over in muted recollection, and she was almost tempted to hug him were she able to. Instead, she settled for stroking his back—or at least, trying to. Her hand went through his ghostly form, but she still continued. The light returned to his eyes when he noticed that she was attempting to comfort him.

“Pasensya na,” she told him.

“Para saan? Wala ka namang ginawang mali.”

“Iyon na nga. Pasensya na wala akong magawa kundi ito lang,” she added, continuing to stroke his outline in a gesture of comfort.

He looked wary at first, but his expression then melted into resignation. Both of them sat together like that in silence, the atmosphere too heavy for any of their usual talk.

* * *

 

After that day, it was as if Goyo withdrew into his own shell.

He’d gotten a lot quieter as of late, either opting to wander around the city or silently stare holes into her apartment. Hed also stopped pestering her about getting his memories back. It felt unsettling seeing him so pensive when he was normally so pushy all the time. She almost missed their little spats together.

A part of her knew she would be happy at him regaining a good number of his important memories back, but the weary look on his face convinced her otherwise. The news must have brought back something he didn’t want to remember.

On some days, he’d come back home from exploring, and she would give up altogether on asking him if he recovered some of his memories. His exhausted expression said it all—he looked like he had just returned from a war.

However, if she had to pinpoint what unnerved her the most, it was when he watched her eat one time.

“Naiilang ka ba na may nakatingin sa iyo kapag kumakain ka?”

“Well, ‘di lang ako sanay,” she answered.

“Dati, may tinignan din akong kumain sa pangarap lamang na masilayan ang kanyang mga mata,” he remarked. “Sadyang nakakabighani siya. At kakaibang-kakaiba siya sa lahat.” The fondness in his voice from when he spoke before returned in full force. But for some reasons, there was that longing at the end.

“Talaga bang bolero ka, o talagang magaling ka sa iyong mga salita?” she said; but when she saw a painfully wistful smile tracing his lips, she wished that she didn’t bring up the question at all.

* * *

One morning, she caught her own reflection in the mirror as she brushed down her hair.

“Talaga bang walang pag-asa?” she said, bitterly gazing at a loose strand of her hair just by the back of her ear that curled a little when the rest of her hair was smoothened down until the small of her back.

She had asked her mother about it one day, about the reason why that respective part of her hair never lengthened, and all her mother could tell her was that it had always been like that. She always thought of it as some hair that with a good cut would allow it to lengthen another time; but it didn’t. Not to mention as well how come it was naturally flecked as grayish white against her natural dark brown hair, that whenever she had it colored, few weeks later and the color fades. She then considered it to be some mark.

Either way, it still eluded her. But, of course, no one had to see it or even know about it—this was her little secret to keep. The very reason why she always pin that respective lock of hair to blend too well with the rest of her hair.

“Kung di mo naririnig, pero kanina pa katok ng katok yung lalaking nakaitim sa labas. Sabi niya na kailangan niyo na daw umalis.” Goyo’s head popped through the wall, not even bothering to look ashamed at his intrusion.

“Hoy! Sabi ko di ba ‘wag ka basta-bastang papasok dito? At bodyguard and driver ko iyon, okay?” She quickly scrambled her hair to hide that weird hair strand of hers, but it was too late. His eyes didn’t miss that odd one.

“Bakit ganyan yung buhok mo na iyon?” he asked with a voice more solemn than she’d ever heard it.

“Yung ano?”

“Yung maiksi na puting buhok sa may tenga. Bakit may ganoon ka?”

“Pinanganak ako na ganoon. Wala rin akong ideya kung bakit ganoon, o ano mang kondisyon iyon. Ganoon na daw talaga since—” She stopped dead in her tracks when she saw him.

Goyo was crying.

She didn’t even know it was possible for ghosts to shed any tears at all. Yet, here he was. His expression utterly heartbroken and miserable. His usual haughtiness was gone, and for the first time, he truly looked like what he was—a lonely, broken spirit burdened with grief that no one, not even she, could ever hope to understand.

“Goyo...?”

He reached out to move away a few strands of her hair just to see that weird hair strand of hers again, and she would have flinched if not for how gentle his hand was. His fingers stopped before he could even reached her, and she swore she felt goosebumps at that close interaction.

“May... may naalala ka ba, Goyo?” she asked him tentatively.

“Na...” He was choking on his words. “Napaka-tanga ko talaga...”

He said nothing further, and she chose not to prod any deeper. The plain sight of him sobbing made tears well up in her, too. There was an indescribable pain coming from the pit of her stomach, and she couldn’t hold back the sobs that escaped her.

* * *

She learned that he wasn’t the only one missing something. Even she was missing something. She had a jagged and broken piece in her that never found its lost counterpart. Suddenly, she remembered all those nights long ago when she’d woke up with tears, weeping for reasons she could never seem to decipher. No matter how much she tried to remember, the only remnants of her sorrow were fading glimpses of red and white. She felt empty for so long, and the longest when she saw him.

_Bakit nasasaktan ako kapag nakikita kita?_

Her cheeks were dried with yesterday’s tears when she woke up the next day. Her heart was heavy, and she dreamt of the same red and white she hadn’t seen since her childhood. This time, though, they were clear enough to be remembered. She knew just what those colors proudly meant—the blossoming red rose and the white lilies for the dead. The great spurn of an eagle, the blanket of stars in which they’ve chosen one for them alone, and that day she allowed him to cut a strand of her hair just by her ear for him to token close to his heart.

Only one person could ever stir up the loneliness she’d kept hidden deep in her soul for so long.

“Goyong,” she whispered in the silence. She looked around her bedroom to find Goyo— _Goyong_ —but there wasn’t a trace of him anywhere. She checked the living room, but he wasn’t there either. She shouted, expecting a response, “Goyong!”

No response.

She was insane. A fool. Stupid.

In all her jitters, she knocked out her diary from the table wherien a latest picture dropped from its pages. Written below had been the marker of a trip to Ilocos Sur. And the view behind that portrait of hers even featured the statue of the valiant young hero astride his horse.

She scrambled to take the photo, kneeling down on the ground as she wept for all the things she could never say—and all the things she’d never be able to say anymore. Her regrets of moving on, leaving him alone, and everything else.

He never returned to her apartment after that.

* * *

The only logical conclusion she could came up with was that: he’d moved on already. However, she still hope that he’d come back.

But he never did. Days turned to weeks, then to months. She was all alone again.

The first few days, she was lost. Always daydreaming and staring right ahead. The day after he left, she asked her driver to take her to Tirad before even telling her father that she won’t be going to work for the next few days. She just felt it an obligation for her to do so, that once she made it to the spot that was said to be where he had died, she felt emptier before hesitantly needing to go down another time, and finally accept the truth of moving on. She just felt that if she do what she had done before meeting his ghost, he’ll appear again. But this time, he didn’t.

Slowly, she tried, indeed, to move on. Her life slowly returned back on track. Despite how weird and heavy the action must be, she learned how to cope up. But there were still nights that she would still wish that it didn’t end that way. But life went on for the world, and so, she must as well went along with the flow.

She remained close with her siblings during their family business’s anniversary ball. Being one of the leading and successful airlines, their family was surely skyrocketing. Everyone was invited. From the stockholders, to business partners, to their best pilots and flight attendants. And when the music shifted to something slow, and the guests brought their respective partners onto the floor for a dance, she couldn’t help but feel the longing. A memory from a far away past life rising another time.

“Can I have this dance, Ms. Nable José?”

Only one voice could sound gentle as that. She thought that she was just deluding, but screw the world, for she missed it more than anything.

Turning to look at him, she saw him standing there, proud and tall with a gentle smile on his face and a hand offered on her direction. He appeared pristine on his white uniform with four bars denoting his achievements and rank. _Alive_.

She smiled in turn, placing her hand above his. She remembered to mock him one time, perhaps, in the future, that he had lowered his rank, but he had soared high for what he truly envisioned himself to be.

_And finally home._


End file.
